The Portland Fiction Project at Food Front, the first scavenger hunt stop.
Look out, Portland. Twelve teams of writers are now roaming your streets in search of things to write about. Iiiit’s Sledgehammer!
Sledgehammer Portland 2009 Teams:
Labruda
Inatius and Myrna
Insolence
Flowers
Smarmy of One
The Listmaker
Portland Fiction Project
Lani Jo Leigh
Bob Ferguson
Kim Crow
Amber Hatt
Undecided
Good luck, everyone!
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Several of you have asked about teams of two or three and the possibility of a lower team rate to reflect this. Well, you’ve convinced us that it’s a good idea. Here is the new rates breakdown:
Individual: $20
Team of Two: $40
Team of Three: $60
Team of Four or More: $75
So what’s holding you back? Register now!
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Special thanks to the 20-Pounders, whose donations are worth $500 or more:
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2008 submission by “Joe the Writer” (W. R. Jenkins and Alamelu Brooks)
My name is Joseph Henry and I am a writer. I write articles and short stories to keep a roof over my head and bread on the table. This week I live alone in a downtown Portland studio flat. Well it’s not much of a studio or a flat, but for this month it will be home to me. I am trying to become familiar with Portland. It is a beautiful place and I know it will help me be a better writer. Each week I try to expand the limits of my world a little more by finding new things to do. Like tonight I am going to take a long ride on MAX and then get something to eat at Mizu Sushi over on Third. I am a real fan of Sushi, and some of my friends gave it very high marks. I tried to get some dinner there one night last week, but I got there just as the chef was leaving the main part of the restaurant. I knocked on the window to try to get her attention, but she didn’t hear me.
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2008 Submission by Katherine Elliott Scott
I stood at my kitchen sink washing dishes when the telephone rang. I dropped my sponge on the crusty old cereal bowl I was attempting to scrub clean and shuffled over to the phone. “Hello?” I said cradling the receiver between my shoulder and chin.
“Bonny darling, I have wonderful news. I’m coming to visit.”
It was Erika. The Bedouin desert queen that had managed to drift in and out of my life for nearly twenty years without any rhyme or reason. “Where are you?” I asked nervously.
“Your driveway,” Erika replied.
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Sledgehammer Writing Contest 